


Of Broken Clocks, Cores and Hearts

by SumiSprite



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Angst, Clockwork is an awesome bro, Drunk Danny, Fluff and Angst, Gen, He's such a mom, Heartbreak hurts, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 20:13:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9012856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SumiSprite/pseuds/SumiSprite
Summary: The first heartbreak is always the worst, and it is sadly commonplace among teenagers. Danny only wished someone could have told him having your heart broken by someone who was a friend first would hurt even more. Clockwork may not be able to go back in time and tell him, but he could at least comfort the Halfa. And maybe even empathize…
Prequel to The Eye Thief, two-shot, angst, complete. Warnings inside!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **NOTICE!** This fic takes place on year BEFORE ‘The Eye Thief’, so Danny is fifteen years old in this.
> 
> WARNING! For implied underage drinking, underage intoxication, swearing, angst. 
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> ~S~

The few people that knew Clockwork have often assumed that, since he knew everything, nothing really affected him emotionally. Some even claimed he had no emotions – not anymore at least. Apparently working with time for as long as he did stripped one of their emotions.

But a very select few would sneer at such assumptions. Two people in particular knew these assumptions were untrue, though they would sometimes wonder otherwise. Regardless, Clockwork never argued with the fools who claimed he had no emotions, nor the fact that tragedies he has seen long before they happened did not affect him. 

No, he was not without emotion. And there have been plenty of times he has seen things that hurt him and made his core quiver in longing to help. He never did though – he never could. He adjusted though, and these days, seeing disasters and tragedies did not hurt as much. He didn’t feel _nothing_ though, let alone did he take enjoyment out of seeing such things. He simply knew he could not hang himself up on such things, especially when they may be necessary. He could not afford to spend his emotions, or his energy, on crying over the inevitable…

But perhaps this one, seemingly miniscule occasion would be an exception…

He knew when and where it would happen. He knew it would end in gut-wrenching heartbreak and anger. He knew he would run, that he would lose himself in agonizing heartbreak and confusion. He knew he would make stupid decisions and try to run from the people around him.

And he knew he would come to his tower with a less than adequate grasp on his emotions. He even knew how it would end.

“Daniel.” Clockwork greeted, turning away from his time mirror. He eyed the slightly swaying Halfa in the doorway of his observatory, his sensitive nose picking up the scent of alcohol. “Was this truly your best idea to drown your sorrows?”

Some would say Clockwork’s manner of confrontation was rather crude, if not cold. But he was not so cruel; rather, he simply knew that the gentle approach was not always an option when it came to confronting someone. Sometimes a little ‘tough love’ was needed first. 

Danny scowled, gloved hands clenching and unclenching erratically, his fury palpable. His aura seemed to dump into Clockwork’s domain like a sick purge; something that most would find rather rude, if not offensive. To saturate another ghost’s home with your energy was no different than a dog marking another’s territory. 

But Clockwork was not the least bit swayed. People were often unaware of what they said or did when drunk; it was only doubly so when said drunk was an emotionally unstable fifteen year old boy.

The Time Keeper glided over to the Halfa, keeping a respectable distance between them. His staff in one hand, he held the other out in a beckoning gesture. 

“You are underage, young man,” he said. Danny’s scowl deepened, his hand going to the half-empty bottle – that he had pilfered from his parents – held in his belt. 

The Halfa suddenly grinned, lopsided and very intoxicated. “C’mon, Clock. S’not the first time you’ve seen a kid drink…”

“No, it is not, but I had hoped my charge would have a little more restraint.” Clockwork informed flatly. 

Danny only giggled, swaying on his feet. “He sounds like a brat…” he slid the bottle out from under his belt and made to take a swig.

The bottle did not touch his lips though, and he looked down at his now empty hand in confusion. He blinked slowly, hazy, dull green eyes looking up at Clockwork. He frowned slightly when he found the bottle in the other’s gloved hands, and he had a moment to wonder how it got there.

“You have had enough, Daniel,” Clockwork said with a sigh, looking at the bottle’s label. “You are lucky your ghost half is so tolerant. You would have made yourself ill if you drank this much as a full human…”

Danny scoffed, irritation creeping into his eyes. “Why do you care?”

Clockwork’s lips tightened. Words and actions hardly ever hurt him in any way, but never let it be said the Halfa’s words didn’t sting just a little bit. He honestly thought they were getting along great, despite his own brand of reservation. Danny was a stubborn boy though, and even more than that, he was a ridiculously selfless boy. He made a point in winning a hard-earned smile from Clockwork at least once a week, whether from his dry sarcasm, or his silly, otherwise baffling questions on random topics. Those often left Clockwork a little baffled, then amused when Danny took in what he had dubbed his ‘WTF, mortal?’ face. 

He still refused to give an answer to the ‘the chicken or the egg’ riddle Danny had been badgering him about.

“I care a great deal, Daniel,” Clockwork said gently. 

“Got a funny way of showin’ it…” Danny slurred, eyes going from the bottle in Clockwork’s hand to his face, as if indecisive. 

Clockwork sighed. “Yes, though to be fair, I don’t exactly get out much. My social skills are rather lacking…” Maybe he should have dropped his indifferent mask sooner with Danny…

“Doesn’t matter…” Danny grumbled, before he got into a sloppy stance. “Spar with me.”

Clockwork withheld another sigh, banishing the offending bottle to some unknown location – probably a garbage can somewhere. He faced Danny with a firm expression.

“I am not going to spar when you are intoxicated, Daniel.” He said firmly. Danny glared at the Time Master.

“M’not drunk…” he growled, ecto-sparks dancing off his fists. “Spar with me.”

“Yes, you are. And I said no.” Clockwork said, his aura pulsing once in warning. He was hoping to dissuade Danny further, but he knew it was useless.

Knowing everything was terrible sometimes, especially when you knew trying to fix something was only going to end in disaster.

Danny bristled as the temporal energy washed over him in a cascade of warning pins and needles. Snarling angrily, his body frosting over and his breath turning a frigid ecto-blue, the Halfa moved towards Clockwork threateningly.

“Fight me.” He snarled. 

Clockwork said nothing, and instead turned tail and floated back to his mirrors. Despite his outwardly frigid demeanor, he actually had to mentally wrestle himself away from the Halfa. He could not reward or acknowledge this behavior, no matter how much he wanted to sooth his young charge in a way that would be easier on himself.

Ah, _sentiment…_

“I am not going to fight you, Daniel.” He said, looking into one of his mirrors. “You are welcome to stay and let your intoxication work its way out of your systems, but I am not going to give you a negative outlet for your temper.”

Behind him, Clockwork knew Danny sunk further into his rage, spawned by something other than typical pain or teen-angst. And wordlessly, he waited. 

Danny snarled in a macabre imitation of a bat out of hell. Only giving himself enough time to move his mirror out of the way, Clockwork allowed himself to be violently struck by the Halfa’s Ghostly Wail. Snapping his eyes shut and curling into a protective ball, Clockwork hit the back wall with an impact hard enough to leave a crumbled dent in the stone wall and rattle numerous nearby clocks and gears. 

He groaned painfully; knowing or not, being thrown into a wall still _hurt_. Clockwork floated out of the lovely dent left in his wall. His left arm hung at an awkward angle, dislocated at the shoulder. Nothing was broken that he could feel though; not that there was really anything inside him that Danny could break, except maybe the glass of his clock case. 

Blowing a ghostly lock of white hair out of his face, Clockwork narrowed his eyes on the borderline rabid Halfa. Ice coated his body in a thin, but protective layer. His eyes flashed from green, to blue, to red in a confusing tandem of unstable emotions. His teeth ground, a small dribble of ecto-blood dripping from his lip from biting into it too hard.

Definitely not a happy drunk…

Eyes narrowing, Clockwork threw his shoulder back, forcing it back into its socket with a snapped crack. He didn’t even flinch, and instead turned to face Danny. He banished his staff and replaced it with his trademark scythe. 

It was a wordless acceptance of challenge. And without further ado, Danny roared and shot for Clockwork at top speed. He threw an overpowered, unfocused beam of ecto-energy at the temporal ghost – which was easily dodged, but decimated more of the wall he had been thrown into. Flying above Danny, Clockwork withheld a wince as the intoxicated Halfa, not minding his speed, crashed into the wall violently.

“Daniel-” the named Halfa rose from the rubble, bruised and scratched, but apparently unaffected.

“Fight me!” he shouted, once more making a beeline for Clockwork.

Clockwork swung his scythe forward to block Danny’s attempt to punch him with icicle-studded fists. Using his superior maneuverability, Clockwork flew up and around Danny and up into the higher points of his tower. Danny was not deterred though and followed, only slowed down by the various chains, gears and mechanics cluttering the higher level. 

Danny, infuriated, ended up destroying or damaging whatever unfortunate item was in his way. One such obstacle turned out to be Clockwork himself whenever he worked himself into a corner, and just barely managed to evade any damage. 

Apparently trying to tire Danny out to calm him down was working far less in his favor than he originally thought…

Clockwork grunted as he was suddenly tackled from behind and – he had to laugh internally – slammed into one of his bells. Danny pinned his wrists to the bell, both ignoring the skull-rattling gong of their impact. Danny’s frosted hands tightened on his wrists, probably hoping to crush them. He snarled up at the slightly bigger ghost.

“Liar…!” he snarled.

Clockwork didn’t dawdle on Danny’s drunken mutterings though, not when Danny opened his mouth and the back of his throat luminesced with the overpowering glow of ecto-charged vocals, and the frigid swirl of icy white. Curling up, Clockwork wrapped his tail around Danny’s waist and became intangible, falling back inside the bell. He flipped back, forcing Danny’s grip from his wrists, and threw Danny to the bell-bearing. He dove out just as Danny released his blizzard-laced wail inside the iron structure. A curse that could peel paint left the frozen, swaying bell as Danny fell out, catching himself in flight before he could hit anything on the way down.

“Son of a…!” he veered around, looking for his opponent. 

He could not find or sense Clockwork though. His senses seemed to fluctuate between overly heightened, to dull and useless with the alcohol in his systems. And right at the moment he found his hearing heightened, he locked onto the sound of a distinct ‘tick’ of a clock. Snarling, he whirled around and threw a sharp icicle at the time ghost coming up behind him. He barely gave Clockwork a chance to break the projectile with a swing of his scythe before the Halfa was on him like a rabid animal. 

He tackled Clockwork closer to the floor, but lost his grip when the temporal ghost pried him off and shoved him back with a snakelike strike of his tail. Danny panted, glaring spitefully at the time ghost floating a few feet away from him.

He did not attack, and he was not returning any of his bows. Clockwork was only blocking or dodging Danny’s attacks. The Halfa’s fury spiked when he realized this, and he backed off just enough to form an ice sword.

“Fight back, damn it!” he screamed, swinging his sword – blindly and without any focus on any part of Clockwork’s body.

It was sadly too easy. By the fifth swing, Clockwork shifted his scythe till he held it at its lowest point, and swung in a wide arch. The metal blade cut seamlessly through Danny’s sword like a hot knife through butter; the ice didn’t even shatter or crumble at the cut. 

“I am not going to fight you, Daniel.” He said calmly. 

Danny’s eyes grew wild, two swirling pools of red, green and blue. He trembled in contained fury – and something else entirely. 

“Why the hell not?!” he snapped, his voice cracking as he swung his now shortened sword at Clockwork. 

The temporal man floated back and turned his hips to avoid a cut to his waist. He raised his scythe to block another swing.

“Because I don’t want to hurt you.” He said.

“Bull _SHIT!_ ” Danny snarled, swinging the halved sword erratically as he closed in on Clockwork. “You’ve already hurt me! You hurt me! I hate you! You lied! You lied to me! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you I hate you I **_HATE-!_** ”

Clockwork’s back touched against the back wall. He only had a split second to curse himself mentally before Danny’s next blind, pain-fueled swing, buried the blade in the time ghost’s stomach just below his clock case. The two entities paused, one out of calm stoicism, the other out of sudden shock and confusion.

Clockwork withheld a shudder as the ghostly ice sent a chill into his core. Cobalt blue bloomed over his belly, staining his tunic and partially melting the icy blade. He only had eyes for Danny though, who watched the sudden stain of blood over his mentor and guardian’s abdomen with wide eyes. Neither one said a word for the longest time. Seconds ticked by, masquerading as an eternity, before Danny suddenly shuddered and released his blade. Melted as it was from Clockwork’s blood, its thinned and brittle shaft cracked and broke off, landing on the flood and shattering.

But Danny had to wonder if the shattering he had heard had been from the blade; it sounded rather like it should be his sanity, its shards joining the broken pieces of his heart. 

“Daniel…” the Halfa slowly looked up, finding his vision blurry for reasons he could not explain.

Clockwork banished his scythe and reached up, hands cupping the Halfa’s cheeks, his thumbs wiping away the cascading tears. Danny was shaking, his eyes returning to their hazy green. 

Danny’s voice shook. “I-I…I…I s-stabbed…I h-hurt…!”

Clockwork followed the Halfa down the few feet to the ground, his tail brushing the floor, and Danny standing in the puddle of his partly melted sword. 

His hands reached up but paused halfway to Clockwork, eyes flicking between his face and his bleeding stomach. He didn’t seem to know what to do; whether he should touch the wound and perhaps staunch the bleeding, or resist and not risk hurting Clockwork further. 

He had hurt Clockwork…

He had _stabbed_ Clockwork – he had _hurt_ the one ghost who has shown him more patience and compassion than most anyone he has ever met…!

His face blanched as his stomach roiled, and Clockwork barely caught him in time to land safely on the floor on his knees and purge the night’s grief, anger and alcohol. He retched long after his stomach was emptied, numbly aware of Clockwork rubbing his back and supporting him against his side. And once the ringing in his ears lessened, he could hear the temporal ghost speaking to him.

“Let it out, little one…” he whispered. Danny coughed, staring in a dazed mixture of confusion and horror at the half-melted sword.

“I…!” he swallowed thickly, wanting to vomit again at the taste of regurgitated booze and ectoplasm. “I-I s-stabbed you…!”

He did not see Clockwork nod. “Yes, you did. But I am not hurt.”

Danny veered his head to look at Clockwork in disbelief, the sudden movement prompting more nausea.

“How c-can you s-say…?” a sound between a sob and a cough left him. “I-I _stabbed_ y-you…!”

‘I stabbed Clockwork…’ he thought, _‘I fucking STABBED the Master of Time – the one person who puts up with my bullshit and bitching without complaint, and I go and stab him…!’_

In the back of the Halfa’s frantic, emotional mind, a voice from both the past and a dead future whispered to him,

_You could have killed him…_

_You could have killed Clockwork._

_YOU COULD HAVE **KILLED-!**_

Warmth suddenly engulfs Danny, forcing the Halfa out of his former resolve with a suffocating gasp. A comforting heat not unlike that of a favorite sweater out of the dryer, or a warm bath on a chilly day washed over him. Suddenly boneless, Danny hung limply in Clockwork’s arms, the temporal ghost carding his gloved fingers through tussled white hair, and speaking softly into his ear. 

“Do not listen to him,” he whispered, “You are not _him_. You are safe here, Daniel. I will not let any harm come to you, nor will I allow you to become him…”

Danny felt a sob burst from his mouth, shedding tears anew. A shaking hand came up to grasp desperately at the other’s purple cloak.

“I-I s-stabbed…!”

“Yes, you did. But I am _not hurt_ ,” Clockwork said firmly. Gently, he reached down and carefully pried Danny’s hand off his cloak. Keeping his head tucked securely under his chin, he pressed the Halfa’s hand to his stomach.

Danny did not dare look down at the wound he had inflicted. But when Clockwork encouragingly pressed his hand to the wound, he found that while it was still damp with Clockwork’s blood, he did not feel the clean cut his sword had made. He dared to look down, his fingers hesitantly and shakily pressing against the warm, firm skin left exposed by the hole in Clockwork’s tunic. 

His stomach was completely healed, the cut sealed up and not even leaving a welted, waxy scar. All that remained was the blooming stain of his blood, and a clean-cut hole.

It was still too much though. Healed or not, the evidence of his furious – _his unforgivable_ – actions still stood starkly against the temporal ghost’s belly. And although he wondered at the blood’s color somewhere in the back of his still inebriated mind, at the forefront, he could not shake free of the crushing guilt and horror. 

He was Danny Phantom – he was the hero, the person who saved people, not hurt them. He wasn’t supposed to hurt anyone out of anger. He wasn’t supposed to take his rage out on another, let alone _hurt _them for it!__

__But he did…_ _

__He couldn’t even utter a word, not when the last few hours of this one awful day came crashing down on him. His energy, and therefore his anger, completely spent, Danny screwed his eyes shut in a vain attempt to stifle the overflow of tears. His back lurched as he clapped his hands over his face, sobbing deeply and painfully._ _

__But still, that comforting warmth did not leave him – _Clockwork_ did not leave him. Instead, he felt Clockwork’s arms tighten in a firm, but gentle embrace that drew him closer until he was almost sitting in the time ghost’s lap. He felt Clockwork curl over him, forming a strange, yet comforting cocoon around the Halfa._ _

__The comforting contact only made Danny cry harder though, his entire body trembling. A part of him wondered at the fact that Clockwork should be angry, that he should have thrown the Halfa out of his tower the first chance he got._ _

__He clutched at Clockwork’s tunic and buried his head against his throat, afraid to let ago but also afraid to get closer. He did not want to hurt Clockwork again, but he feared that if he let go of the one person holding his sanity together…_ _

__“Shh…” Clockwork crooned, stroking Danny’s back and sending pulses of calming, warm energy into the Halfa’s trembling body. “It’s going to be alright. You’re going to be alright…”_ _

__Danny sniffled, his entire body aching as it unwound from its locked tension. His forehead gently bumped Clockwork’s chin as he forced his heavy head to look up just slightly._ _

__“I’m sorry…!” he choked, his voice shot and broken. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry…! I didn’t mean…!”_ _

__“I know, I know.” Clockwork reassured, cupping the Halfa’s cheek and looking down at him with a softened gaze. “I know. And I’m sorry.”_ _

__Danny almost asked what Clockwork was apologizing for, but his muddled brain managed to dredge up the reason for his coming to the Clock Tower, and just what he had been angry about. He had been unfairly angry at Clockwork, when he should have been angry at someone else…_ _

__But no, instead of directing his emotions where they belonged, he had laid blame on his guardian, and as a result not only made a complete ass of himself, but likely shattered the friendship he had with his gentle mentor…_ _

__“M’sorry…” he whimpered, tucking his head back against Clockwork’s throat. The temporal ghost only held him tighter, one hand cradling the back of his head._ _

__“There is nothing to forgive,” he said softly._ _

__Danny sniffled, suddenly exhausted and defeated. Everything, from his head to his toes ached. He was pretty sure he was still a bit drunk too, because he would swear that even his hair hurt. It felt like a hole had been punched through his chest, and a whole cascade of emotions was draining out of him._ _

__He didn’t feel like he was dying anymore though. He didn’t feel like the world was ending anymore…_ _

__Gentle hands accustomed to fixing clocks and timelines carefully scooped the Halfa up. At any other time, Danny would protest being picked up like a child. But right now, he decided resolutely to be a child and let Clockwork hold him. He had already barged into the tower and assaulted Clockwork, drunk and fueled by child-like anger no less; what’s one more bruise to his beaten dignity?_ _

__He felt Clockwork float up to his ‘standing’ level and drift out of the observatory. Danny vaguely wondered when he had closed his eyes, and found he did not have the strength – or the will – to open them again. He startled when Clockwork moved him down and away from his hold, and Danny impulsively reached up to blindly grab at his cloak._ _

__“Shh, it’s alright.” Clockwork shushed the mildly panicked Halfa. Carefully, he laid Danny down in his bed and gently tried to pry his hand off his cloak. But Danny’s hand only tightened around it._ _

__“No…” he croaked, stuck in that confusing plane of sleep and wakefulness. “Please…”_ _

__There have been people who have said that Clockwork possessed a metal heart. And while this claim was true to a degree, to him, it did not make him sound cold. Rather, it made the idea of his heart – his core – melting for the Halfa seem all the more possible._ _

__He sighed, smiling wryly at his charge. Honestly, he did not make anything easy. He would likely be scolded by the Observants if they found out he took an unplanned day off…_ _

__Shame he did not give a damn._ _

__Gently prying Danny’s hand off his cloak, he floated up and over Danny before curling around the Halfa like a protective dragon. The teenager found his guardian’s tunic and clutched at him, his forehead pressing just above his clock case. A moment later, a familiar ring appeared around Danny’s waist and split into two, vanishing at his feet and over his head to leave behind a human Danny Fenton. Clockwork draped his cloak over the Halfa before the frigid cold of the Ghostzone could touch him, and curled tighter around Danny with an arm over tense shoulders._ _

__Sighing, Clockwork propped his chin up on Danny’s head, tucking him close against his chest._ _

__“Rest well, little one…” he said softly._ _

__Danny was lost to sleep in no time, soothed by the gentle hand sending calming, warm pulses of energy against his back, and the soothing tick-tock of Clockwork’s clock. It was going to be a long night, and Clockwork felt no inclination to sleep._ _

__Instead, he guarded over his hurt charge. Like a dragon guarding treasure, his presence deterred all but the young boy in his embrace. Frigid in his stare and power, but warm and gentle in his touch._ _

__No, Clockwork was not without emotion. Seeing disasters and tragedies did not hurt as much as they used to; time has a way of hardening the heart. He could not afford to spend his emotions, or his energy, on crying over the inevitable. But he was not unkind, nor was he cruel. He simply knew when his emotions would be well spent, and who was worth spending his time and care on._ _

__Danny, to his bemused surprise, become someone worth giving his time and kindness to. He was well worth it and more. He had earned Clockwork’s kindness, his care and time. And he had more than earned his comfort…_ _

__Clockwork’s garnet eyes suddenly narrowed over raven hair, almost glaring at the wall of his chambers. But while his eyes seemed to be glaring at the wall, his gaze was elsewhere._ _

__Namely, on a frantic Goth girl calling for his ward in the dark evening of Amity’s neighborhood…_ _

__Yes, Danny had well earned his kindness. And his protection…_ _

__To be continued…_ _


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading~ 8)
> 
> ~S~

Danny did not have much go on except for some bad movies and TV shows. And although he was finding symptomatic consistency – a killer headache, nausea, lethargy, the loss of the will to live – he could not help but painfully think that the media lied.

Hangovers were not as simple as they looked on television or movies. No, hangovers were very valid reasons to find the nearest cliff and jump. The fifteen year old _blatantly_ refused to believe that hangovers were so simple, and that they were not supposed to feel so terrible. He also had to wonder just what was wrong with people and why they actually sought out alcohol in the first place. Partying or not, they must know they were going to wake up feeling like hell warmed over, so why continue to subject yourself to it?

 _‘This wasn’t worth it…’_ He thought with a groan.

“My thoughts exactly.” Danny startled, raising his face from the pillow he had it buried in. He no sooner cringed and screwed his eyes shut, placing his face back in the dark confines of his pillow.

 _‘Wait, this isn’t my pillow…’_ he thought. For one thing, it felt almost new, not like his flattened and beaten old pillow. And it smelled like…something not unpleasant, but he could not put a name to it. 

Where was he…?

A hand touched his back – too big to be his sister’s or mother’s, too small to be his father’s. The familiar voice spoke softly once again.

“I know your first hangover isn’t exactly a pleasant experience,” it – _he_ – said in mild bemusement. “But if you want it to go away relatively quickly, you need to sit up for a moment.”

Danny groaned, hands clutching at the blanket draped over him. He pulled it up until it was covering his head, a muffled ‘no’ leaving his plush confines. No, he was not coming out for any reason whatsoever. The universe could go get hit by a truck for all he cared. He just wanted to stay here and slowly die in peace.

Above him, Clockwork rolled his eyes fondly at the dramatic teenager. Well, perhaps he was not being as dramatic as one would think. He did drink quite a bit of some rather potent alcohol, and he imagined he was still quite emotionally and physically drained. Setting his tray of hangover remedies on the nightstand, Clockwork sat on the edge of his bed next to his charge. He gently gabbed the hood of his cloak – which Danny was using his as blanket – and pulled it off of the Halfa’s head. 

“Daniel…” he started.

“Am I dead yet…?” Danny mumbled. Clockwork snorted.

“Thankfully, no. Just hungover.” Again, the time keeper touched Danny’s shoulder. “Just get up for one minute, Daniel. You’re welcome to go back to sleep afterwards.” 

Again, Danny can only muster up a groan. But with the promise of having the edge taking off his hangover, he decided to just bite the bullet and _try_ to sit up. Trying to curb back the nausea, Danny gently and slowly pushed himself to sit up on his knees. His eyes felt like they were glued shut, and it took an impossible amount of effort to force them open. He squinted in mild discomfort at the – thankfully – low light of the room he was in. A room that was _definitely _not his own.__

__He blinked tiredly, staring at the bed’s headboard. “Where am I…?”_ _

__“My tower,” Clockwork replied, reaching over to pick up some of the items from the tray. “More specifically, my personal chambers. You’ve been out for fifteen hours, thirty two minutes, and eighteen seconds.”_ _

__Suddenly Danny was more than awake, his heart leaping into his throat as he veered his head around to look at Clockwork._ _

__“What?!” he rasped. “I’ve been asleep for-!”_ _

__The Halfa suddenly blanched, a shudder wracking his body. Clockwork’s expression did not change as he quickly picked up the bucket he had placed next to the bed and shoved it in Danny’s hands. Just in time for the teenager to lurch and vomit whatever was left in his stomach from last night. Apparently there was a lot…_ _

__“Ugh…” Danny moaned, his face pale and hair plastered to his sweaty forehead. Wordlessly, he let Clockwork take the bucket from him as he fell back against the pillows in exhaustion._ _

__Clockwork brushed his sweaty bangs from his face. “Alright? Get it out?”_ _

__Danny could only nod faintly, wiping his watery eyes as he tried to gain back some form of coherency. “Sorry…”_ _

__A faint flick of the wrist banished the bucket and its contents as Clockwork regarded his unwell ward. “Do not apologize, Daniel. You can’t help feeling sick right now.”_ _

__Danny rubbed his sore eyes, pulling the blanket up to cover his shivering form. The room felt freezing, but he chalked that up as another side-effect of his hangover. Swallowing around the ball of sand in his throat, Danny looked over and watched Clockwork check a couple labels on some medicine bottles. He blinked slowly._ _

__“…where’s your cloak?” He asked._ _

__Clockwork blinked, looking back at Danny as he shook a few pills out of the bottle. He quirked a brow, resisting the urge to smirk smugly._ _

__“Being put to good use, I’d imagine.” He said smarmily._ _

__Danny frowned in confusion, before he looked down. His eyes faintly widened when he seemed to then realize that his blanket was not, in fact, a blanket, but the Master of Time’s trademark cloak._ _

__“Oh…” he croaked._ _

__Clockwork chuckled, holding a bottle up to Danny. “Here, drink this. It’ll rehydrate you.”_ _

__Wordlessly, Danny took the bottle – Gatorade – and shakily twisted its cap off. He wasn’t a fan of sport’s drinks, but somewhere in his muffled brain, he recalled reading somewhere that they were one of the best remedies for a hangover and dehydration. Hoping the taste wouldn’t make him gag, he took a slow sip, holding the rather acrid liquid in his mouth before swallowing._ _

__It was as disgusting as it looked, but oddly helped. It didn’t make him feel even more nauseous, so he counted that as a plus and took another tentative sip._ _

__“Here,” Clockwork held out a palm-full of pills. “For the head and body aches.”_ _

__Danny blinked, taking in the different colored pills. “Isn’t that a lot…?”_ _

__Clockwork shook his head. “For a human, yes. But your ghost half will be fighting the alcohol in your systems and make it difficult for a smaller dose to work.”_ _

__Deciding not to argue, and hoping at least some of them might knock him out, Danny carefully took the pills into his hand. He was about to throw them back and take a long draught of his drink, but paused and seemed to stare at Clockwork. The temporal ghost quirked a brow, cocking his head inquisitively._ _

__“…your hair’s pretty.” Danny found himself blurting._ _

__Both he and Clockwork blinked dumbly, one taken aback by his unfiltered mouth, and the other just surprised at the random compliment. The Halfa, however mortified of his unfiltered mouth, sluggishly took in the rather unfamiliar ghost before him. Danny had never seen Clockwork without his cloak, and yet…_ _

__The cloak had definitely lent the time ghost a certain regality and intimidation. But without it, he looked…not small, not vulnerable; he looked almost naked without it. He didn’t look as imposing. His body was actually slimmer than Danny realized, now lacking its intimidating illusion. His chest and shoulders were somewhat out of proportion though; almost too wide in relation to his hips. And his hair…he had only seen a few stray locks under his hood, but Danny never imagined Clockwork with long hair. It was almost as long as his sister’s, but much thicker, and wavy where hers was straight. And like any other ghostly trait, it was free of gravity’s hold, lazily waving and floating in a water-like suspension._ _

__White as snow but moving like lazy smoke, the hair towards the front was pulled back and tied in a small ponytail that almost vanished in the rest of the lazily writhing mass. And despite any embarrassment, Danny had to admit that Clockwork’s hair _was_ actually quite pretty…_ _

__Clockwork barked a somewhat breathless chuckle, his lips pulling to one side in a lopsided smile. “Thank you. I wish I could return the compliment…”_ _

__Danny’s eyes narrowed. He did not even want to imagine what his hair looked like right now, let alone how he looked _in general_. Looking away from Clockwork, he tossed back the pills and swallowed them down with his drink. They both sat in silence then, Danny staring at his lap with the Gatorade between his hands, and Clockwork off into some middle distance. _ _

__It was suffocating and awkward, the silence. And before Danny could lose courage, and while he still had a measure of coherency, he looked up at Clockwork from under the fringe of his bangs._ _

__“I’m sorry…” he said._ _

__Clockwork blinked away his staring and looked down at Danny with a frown. Danny bit his lip and continued._ _

__“I’m…I’m sorry for what I did,” he rubbed his forehead, exhausted and wanting to sleep for the rest of his life. “All that stuff I did…god all that stuff I _said_ to you…”_ _

__Clockwork shook his head and tipped Danny’s chin up to look at him. “I won’t pretend it was nothing, but I have long since forgiven you. You made a quick and stupid decision, but I’m pretty sure you’ve learned your lesson when it comes to underage drinking.”_ _

__Danny chuckled breathlessly, swallowing thickly. “No kidding. I’m never drinking anything ever again…” he suddenly looked at Clockwork suspiciously. “Or am I…?”_ _

__Clockwork chuckled, crossing his arms. “If you ever do, it will be responsibly, and you will be twenty-one or older.”_ _

__“Right…” Danny sighed, leaning back into the pillows to stare up at the bed’s canopy. _‘Damn, Clockwork’s bed is fancy…’ >/i>__ _

___He suddenly startled when the bed dipped and Clockwork moved up to sit beside the Halfa. His garnet eyes were searching, but noninvasive on his charge._ _ _

___“Care to talk about it?” he inquired._ _ _

___Danny bit his lip. He knew Clockwork wasn’t talking about his storming to the Clock Tower and demanding a fight with his mentor. He knew he was asking about the events that led up to his unfounded anger and decision to drink the pain away. But apparently it was not that simple; and apparently he wasn’t a happy drunk. At least not when he was already angry and hurting…_ _ _

___“You do not have to if you do not want to,” Clockwork assured. “But I believe it may help to talk about it – if not me, then with someone else.”_ _ _

___Just thinking about bringing last night’s events up with someone else made Danny’s stomach churn. No, there was too much to say, and too much that couldn’t be said. Jazz and Tucker would be furious and likely do something stupid; more so if Tucker decided to lend his aid. His parents were not even an option, and no one else knew of his situation to begin with._ _ _

___Clockwork likely knew what happened, and therefore would not ask questions, or react negatively. And right now, Danny could really use someone who would actually listen and not act. Part of him simply wanted to avoid talking about it because Clockwork knew what happened. But a smaller, guilty part of Danny reminded him that he still owed an explanation. And maybe, just maybe, Clockwork was doing him a kindness in just letting him talk about it._ _ _

___Trying to swallow back the painful lump working its way into his throat, Danny clenched at his half-empty Gatorade bottle and curled his knees slightly._ _ _

___“It’s Sam…” he said. Clockwork nodded and said nothing._ _ _

___“We…gave the whole dating thig a try since…” Danny wasn’t sure how to continue that sentence, so he instead took a drink and went another route. “We’d been dating for a few months now. It was great, nice even, if still a bit awkward…”_ _ _

___Again, Clockwork only nods, and Danny tosses back the rest of the Gatorade. He raked a hand through his messy hair and tried to resist the urge to clam up._ _ _

___“We were at her place. Um…” a slight tinge of red touched his cheeks. “Um…fooling around…n-nothing bad, just…kissing and…stuff…”_ _ _

___Danny startled when Clockwork laid his hand gently on his shoulder. He looked up with wide eyes at the time keeper, but quickly relaxed as he took in the calm, unassuming garnet gaze. He nodded once to Danny in encouragement, and Danny found himself scooting closer to Clockwork before continuing._ _ _

___“We were kissing and…I don’t know when, but she told me to stop.” He said. Again, his hands tightened on the empty bottle, the plastic squeaking and cracking in his grip. His brows furrowed into a weak scowl. “I asked her what was wrong, and she said she was embarrassed about asking me something. I told her it was okay, nothing she said was going to freak me out. I’m half ghost, she can’t exactly top that. And then…”_ _ _

____Sam looked uncertain, biting her slightly swollen, violet painted lips hesitantly. Grasping Danny’s shoulders, she looked up at Danny imploringly._ _ _ _

____“I…I wanted to ask you…” she hesitated, cheeks flushing. Danny gently held her by the waist, blue eyes urging._ _ _ _

____“What? You can ask me, Sam. No matter what it is, I’m not going to freak out.” He assured with a smile._ _ _ _

____Sam smiled hesitantly back, her eyes still unable to meet her boyfriend’s. “Okay. Would you…”_ _ _ _

____Danny leaned forward slightly, heart pounding, excitement mounting. “Yeah?”_ _ _ _

____“Would you…” Sam looked up through her mascara-thick eyelashes at Danny, almost pleading. “Would you…turn into Phantom?”_ _ _ _

___Danny felt his chest tighten, that familiar hybrid of anger and sadness clawing at his lungs and heart. He didn’t know when he had started trembling, but he became gratefully aware of Clockwork’s hand moving to his far shoulder to hold securely._ _ _

___“We argued, and when I heard her parents coming up, I changed and left…” he said thinly. Yet still, he sounded so lost when he spoke._ _ _

___“She asked me to change into Phantom…” he rasped, “Into _Phantom_. And I…I don’t know what happened. I felt like someone had shot a hole in my chest!”_ _ _

___Danny’s jaw clenched, anguish rolling off of him in palpable waves. Clockwork was not deterred though, and instead held the Halfa to his side securely. Danny sniffled, his head lolling to land on the time keeper’s shoulder._ _ _

___“Everything was fine. We were doing just fine the first couple weeks…” he said brokenly. “Then…I don’t know, she started acting different. She acted like she was distracted. We’d hardly kiss, she’d make me let go of her hand, wouldn’t talk to me…even Tucker asked what was going on, if we were fighting. I just thought she still felt awkward or something, especially with the jocks still making fun at us. But I didn’t think…”_ _ _

___He paused, shoulders dropping and eyes burning. Every ounce of leftover fight left him in one shaky breath, and he was suddenly grateful for the strong shoulder to lean on._ _ _

___“I think I saw it coming. But I didn’t want to believe it…” he croaked. “She’d get so excited whenever I turned into Phantom to fight ghosts. She suddenly wanted to be near me when I was Phantom, but when I changed back into Fenton, back into _me…_ ”_ _ _

___The tears were a surprise to Danny, but not to Clockwork. The shaking shoulders and fluctuating emotions were the first obvious signs of a breakdown. He did not need his powers to know when Danny was about to reach his breaking point, so it came as no surprise when the time keeper suddenly found himself with an armful of sobbing Halfa teenager._ _ _

___The temporal ghost held Danny without complaint or comment. If he were honest, he was actually glad Danny wasn’t trying to deny what had happened, nor the pattern leading up to the disaster. He had denied it for the majority of three months now, had held it all in until he exploded at the worst time. But he was facing it now; better late than never, Clockwork would say._ _ _

___It did not excuse the Manson girl though. He knew Danny had been angry and hurt by her, but he had also been angry at Clockwork. In his fit of emotions and alcohol, Danny had thought that Clockwork would tell him something like this would happen. He could not distinct reality and his ideals at that time – not that Clockwork could blame him, nor did he hold it against him. Danny was a young fifteen year old boy, of course he was going to make unrealistic assumptions, even more so when inebriated._ _ _

___It was a sad fact of life; the first heartbreak always hurt the most. Danny’s situation was made even doubly worse by the fact that the girl he felt he loved had been his friend first and foremost. And to suddenly be faced with this new side of her – a side Danny had _known_ existed, but did not want to acknowledge – had only strengthened the blow. _ _ _

___Clockwork would be the first to say he did not hold much fondness for Samantha Manson. Even without his foresight, he could see who she was; she tried too hard to be different – she tried to be different in general. And to any seasoned human or ghost, this was a huge warning flag to anyone. At one point, perhaps she did love Danny as himself. But as time went on, as he himself became stronger, more _different_ , her affections turned into the desire to make her as unique as possible. The boy she could have loved no longer mattered to her – it was that unique half of him she wanted to add to her collection of oddities and accessories. _ _ _

___And this was only one of many timelines where similar or exact events played out just like this. Regardless, Clockwork had held onto a small amount of hope that Sam would see Danny for who he was, not just his hero persona. They were the same people to begin with, but she had been more interested in what his ghost half could do that others could not. Danny – the human – was too ordinary for her. And over time, like many other young humans, she began to drift away from Danny Fenton._ _ _

___Danny sniffled, eyes burning and entire body throbbing in painful exhaustion. “I don’t get it…I don’t get how she could…how did I miss it? When did she change…?”_ _ _

___Clockwork sighed softly, petting Danny’s hair. “Not even I could tell you. Humans are complicated things, and their fancies can shift and change within minutes.”_ _ _

___“She was my friend though…” Danny rasped, curling up closer to his guardian, desperate for some kind of comfort. “We’ve been friends for so long…”_ _ _

___“And you don’t understand how she could hold so little respect for who you are,” Clockwork elaborated for the confused teenager. “You are confused and hurt that she does not love you the way you did her. That she does not feel so unconditionally for _you_ , instead of something that is a part of you.”_ _ _

___Danny nodded, throat aching with emotions and the inability to truly explain why he felt the way he did. He hated being a teenager sometimes; being so driven by emotions and nameless feelings, controlled by impulse and being unable to explain _why_ ; not even to himself. _ _ _

___“Are we really so different?” he asked defeatedly. “Is Phantom really not me? Is he really _better_ than me…?”_ _ _

___“No,” was Clockwork’s immediate response. “Not even hardly. Daniel, Phantom is you. The only differences between you two are your appearances, and your natural abilities. But that is where the differences and distinctions stop…”_ _ _

___Lifting Danny’s chin to look up at him, Clockwork fixed his charge with a firm gaze that had Danny refusing to look away._ _ _

___“There is no ‘Phantom and Danny’,” he said firmly, “There is only you. There are not two distinct people here; there is just _you_. But sadly, Samantha did not see this, and began to see Phantom as a completely different person that was somehow more desirable than Danny. I will not pretend to know what goes on in her head or what she sees, but I think she has not grown up like you have.”_ _ _

___Danny blinked in confusion, and Clockwork’s lips quirked up at the corners. He shooed an unruly lock of raven hair out of Danny’s face, again fixing the Halfa that unbreakable gaze._ _ _

___“You are still young, Daniel – both you and your companions. But all three of you have grown into your own at different paces, and in different directions,” he said, “Tucker has been the closest constant in your life in both your friendship, and your levels of understanding one another. Samantha, unfortunately, strayed from the path she promised to take with you both, and as a result, she has lost sight of just who you are. In a way, it is you who is out of her league. You outgrew her possibly a long time ago, and perhaps she wanted this relationship to somehow keep you from moving away from her.”_ _ _

___Again, Danny blinked, but he is thoughtful as he absorbs his mentor’s words. In a way, it made so much sense – ridiculously so. But a part of him still wondered just how things had gone so wrong, and if he could have done anything more for Sam. Perhaps it was the remains of the booze, his hangover, his hero-complex, or all three; but a part of Danny felt like he had let Sam down, and that was why they had grown so far apart._ _ _

___He felt Clockwork sigh in fond exasperation, his hand coming up to card through his hair. “You and that hero-complex…”_ _ _

___Danny laughed a bit brokenly, his temple laying against Clockwork’s neck. He was exhausted and drained, but he also somehow felt better. He felt lighter, like that invisible chokehold he had not realized had been there was now gone. And once the alcohol cleared his systems, and he got some proper sleep, he was sure he would feel much better – physically and emotionally._ _ _

____‘Huh, just like Clockwork said…’_ he thought, _‘I’ll be alright…’__ _ _

___Limp in his mentor’s arms, Danny barely had the strength to look up at Clockwork and open his mouth in sudden concern._ _ _

___“Time passes differently here,” Clockwork stepped in before Danny could ask. “Where you slept for almost a day here, only a few minutes have passed in the human world. You’ll be back before curfew after you have a little more rest, with no one the wiser.”_ _ _

___Danny felt a little dazed at Clockwork’s words – or perhaps it was the medication kicking in. Regardless, he laughed lowly and laid his head back on the time keeper’s chest._ _ _

___“Clockwork…” he asked._ _ _

___“Hm?”_ _ _

___“Does…does it ever go away? The hurt?” Danny asked. Clockwork considered his question._ _ _

___He shook his head. “No. But it gets easier to deal with. And if you are lucky, you will find that one person who can take it away from you, and you will learn to trust that they will not inflict it upon you.”_ _ _

___Danny nodded drowsily. But he wanted to ask one more thing before he was dragged under into sleep…_ _ _

___"Have you ever had your heart broken?" He asked. It sounded silly when he said it, and Danny expected Clockwork to laugh or say he was being ridiculous and needed to go to sleep._ _ _

___But when he felt Clockwork tense under him, and his aura quivered like a shivering animal, Danny began to fall victim to sleep. Black lined his vision, and his eyes seemed to become too heavy to keep open._ _ _

___And in a whisper so soft, so quiet that Danny would wonder if he actually heard it in his drugged state, Clockwork answered._ _ _

___"Yes." He says softly._ _ _

___****___

___**

~s~S~s~

**___

___**** _ _ _

___From his observatory, Clockwork watched Danny prepare for school a week later. It has been a difficult uphill battle for the Halfa, but he had persevered and came out with his desired results. Danny had slept for many more hours in Clockwork’s care, and woke up a half hour before his curfew with his headache reduced to a fleeting throb, and his nausea a barely noticeable pang in his gut. He was still tired, and obviously still hurting, but he had assured Clockwork he would be okay._ _ _

___He apologized profusely for the way he had acted of course, despite Clockwork’s forgiveness and understanding. That didn’t stop Danny from asking Jazz to help him make ‘apology brownies’ for him though._ _ _

___Speaking of his sister – once Danny had gone home and woken up late the next morning (a Saturday, he was eternally grateful to find), he sat Jazz down and told her everything. And as expected, she had wanted to march to the Manson house and give Sam a piece of her mind. But Danny managed to placate her and assured her that he had had help working through everything. He also confessed to his decision to try and drink his sorrows away. Jazz had been understandably angry and stunned, but thankfully she did not feel the need to chew him out. She must have felt his hangover was punishment enough – and rightfully so._ _ _

___He had also gone over to Tucker’s to explain everything. And like Jazz, Tucker had been angry, but he also confessed to not being too surprised. He had seen how Danny and Sam were acting, and it wasn’t very ‘couple-y’. He never guessed it was because she was attracted to only one part of Danny though._ _ _

___“I just thought it was too awkward for you guys,” he had said, placing a sympathetic hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, dude…”_ _ _

___Danny had been glad his friend had understood and completely supported him – _after_ he badgered him for details on what it was like to be drunk, and just how bad his hangover was. His parents, thankfully, never found out about the missing bottle – they rarely ever opened the cabinet it was kept in anyways, so while they would never know, this also meant the booze he drank was probably older than he was. _ _ _

___As for Sam…_ _ _

___It took some encouragement from Tucker and Jazz, but he managed to call her up Sunday afternoon and ask to meet somewhere private – the park. As much as he wanted to give as good as he got, he didn’t want a public spectacle; he knew it wouldn’t be worth it, and he would feel guilty about it later. And as she approached him where he sat on a bench, eye make-up smeared and running, face pale and miserable, he knew he wouldn’t have had the heart to hurt her anyways._ _ _

___He didn’t tell her what Clockwork had told him – it wasn’t his place; she had to figure it out on her own. But in the end, their romantic relationship ended, and Danny had asked for some time away from her as a friend. He was still too emotionally raw to trust himself around her. And although she was obviously hurt by this, she agreed, and they parted with stiff goodbyes._ _ _

___Clockwork scanned his eyes over another mirror, this one reflecting a distant future. He smiled at the yet-to-be future that held laughter from his young charge, and a budding romance with another Danny did not yet think much about._ _ _

___“Yes, Daniel,” he said, “You’re going to be just fine…”_ _ _

___Clockwork broke from his resolve at an eager knocking at his door, followed by a familiar young voice shouting, “Clockwork! Open up before I eat these brownies myself!”_ _ _

___Clockwork chuckled, waving a hand to open his door and admitting one eager-for-sugar Halfa._ _ _

___“Finally! Dude, you _have_ to try these. My sister is a magician, I swear!” Danny babbled, floating in with a pastry box of the mentioned brownies._ _ _

___Clockwork smiled, listening to his charge ramble as he shut down some of his mirrors and gave the Halfa his full attention._ _ _

___In a way, Clockwork envied Danny and how he was able to bounce back so quickly. Perhaps it may be because his love for Samantha had been the generic teenage puppy-love – easily lost once the fire went out. But regardless, he was proud of his ward, and looked forward to the day he would stop hurting._ _ _

____‘You are lucky, Daniel…’_ he thought wistfully, feeling his core throb and twinge painfully. _‘You will be getting over your heartbreak in the near future…’__ _ _

___The first heartbreak was the worst – it hurts even more when that person was your friend._ _ _

___And Clockwork knew; he knew how much it hurt when your heart is broken. But more than that, he knew just how painful it can become when you realize you may never get over it…_ _ _

___END._ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There IS a headcanon list for this chapter! But the length exceeded the end note character limit. Check it out here on my FF.net page!  
> https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12284017/2/Of-Broken-Clocks-Cores-and-Hearts
> 
> Also, I have NEVER been hungover or drunk in my life. I’ve tasted beer and other forms of alcohol, but I do not have a taste for any form of it at all. So, despite being of drinking age, I’m not likely to drink if you invite me to a bar if I decide to come along – I’ll happily be the designated driver for a small fee though! Anyways, as such, I make no claims to Gatorade working – I simply looked up what good hangover remedies are online, and Gatorade was listed as a very good remedy due to its electrolytes, sugar, and its ability to re-hydrate you. So, don’t take my word for it if you drink! 
> 
> Anyways! Please enjoy, folks! I’d love some feedback, as well as ideas for future CW fics, as well as any guesses/theories as to what you think is going on with Clocky here~ 
> 
> Read and review, and I shall see you next time! 
> 
> Enjoy, and thanks for reading!
> 
> ~S~

**Author's Note:**

> 1.) _His aura seemed to dump into Clockwork’s domain like a sick purge; something that most would find rather rude, if not offensive. To saturate another ghost’s home with your energy was no different than a dog marking another’s territory._ This is rather self-explanatory in its own section. Much like animals that mark, and the aforementioned canon that ghosts are ridiculously possessive of the things they have (mentioned in The Eye Thief), this includes territories, lairs and other places they claim as their own. Most ghosts keep their aura reeled in when entering another ghost’s territory/home since it’s the polite thing to do. It’s much like when you enter a new person’s home; you are respectful and don’t go touching or messing with things that catch your fancy. It’s worse for ghosts though because, as the analogy states, it’s much like a dog marking another’s territory. It’s very rude, and unless the ghost is very young and doesn’t have control of their aura yet, it’s very rarely forgiven. 
> 
> 2.) _“You are lucky your ghost half is so tolerant. You would have made yourself ill if you drank this much as a full human…”_ Ghosts are naturally very tolerant of alcohol and many other substances that are not ectoplasm based. They don’t have metabolisms or organs that function like a human’s, so human booze has extremely little to no effect on a ghost. In Danny’s case, this is a bit tricky because he is only half ghost and still has human organs and a metabolism. His ghost half essentially works as an extra-powerful anti-body for such things, but Danny’s human half is still going act accordingly and become intoxicated. Ghosts, however, have developed their own forms of booze. You may have heard it go by the name ‘ectohol’ in other fics! 
> 
> 3.) _Cobalt blue bloomed over his belly, staining his tunic and partially melting the icy blade._ The essence of a Blue Blood is said to be something entirely otherworldly and not of the afterlife, or the living life. 
> 
> 4.) _“Shh…” Clockwork crooned, stroking Danny’s back and sending pulses of calming, warm energy into the Halfa’s trembling body._ This is a very popular method of comfort usually shared between family or close friends, or used to calm younger ghosts. These pulses of energy are like benign pulses, or echoes, of the ghost’s energy that has been weakened to the point of becoming mere sensation. Ghosts often use this to comfort distressed family, friends, mates and children. Depending on the ghost, the energy can be warm or cold, but both stimulate calm and comfort. Typically these pulses are used when touching the distressed ghost’s back, as this allows for more physical comfort (hugging or sheltering), and it also sends these calm pulses directly to the ghost’s core without scaring the distressed ghost. Mates also use this to bond to one another during intimacy. 
> 
> 5.) _Clockwork draped his cloak over the Halfa before the frigid cold of the Ghostzone could touch him, and curled tighter around Danny with an arm over tense shoulders._ The Ghostzone is EXTREMELY cold due to its vacuum/space-like atmosphere. As far as anyone knows, the Ghostzone does not have a sun or any laws of thermal dynamics. However, if a territory is large enough to form a region or small continent, and the inhabitants share a singular element, that environment can create its own weather and temperature. The Far Frozen is the largest known continent territory with winter-based weather. Other large territories can create other phenomena such as day-and-night, moons and stars, even other planets and flora and fauna. Such continents are rare though, as it takes a whole colony of shared influence to make them, not just a single ghost. The Ghostzone in general has an atmosphere of below freezing temperatures though, and while it’s moderately safe for a human to be in the Ghostzone, they cannot stay long. The Ghostzone is a realm that absorbs life energy, and a human that comes in can only stay for perhaps a day if they come prepared, but no longer; otherwise they risk freezing and, their immune systems vulnerable, risk the Ghostzone absorbing their life force and making them a permanent resident. Danny is vulnerable to the cold in his human form, but his ghost half makes it so he is not at first of dying of hypothermia and having his life drained by the Ghostzone because he is technically a half-resident. His ice core also keeps him from succumbing to the cold, but if he is sick (or intoxicated in this case) his energy will be low, so Clockwork here has to keep his human form warm until he wakes up and regains his bearings. 
> 
> If you have any questions regarding anything else, please feel free to ask! 
> 
> Enjoy! 
> 
> ~S~


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